


The 5 Times Bob Tried to Propose and the 1 Time It Worked

by artificialmac



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Many - Freeform, Marriage Proposal, Mentions of Anxiety, like a tiny bit, little angst, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 07:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18889855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmac/pseuds/artificialmac
Summary: What the title says...





	The 5 Times Bob Tried to Propose and the 1 Time It Worked

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I’ve been working on this fic for over a year now, and I’m so glad to finally get it out of my drafts. This is a bunch of fluff, with a teeny tiny bit of angst, but a happy ending. I hope you all enjoy!

…

It had been a wonderful dinner. Bob had taken Maxwell to their favorite restaurant and ordered pretty much everything on the menu. That was one of the multitude of things they had in common, their love of food. Bob’s heart had been racing the whole meal and subsequently, his leg was bouncing non-stop. Maxwell had been periodically asking him if he was ok, to which Bob had tried to mask his nerves with a smile. Only serving to make Maxwell more curious. 

Bob had been planning this for months, the location, the speech, even what he would be wearing. So naturally he wanted this to go well. Bob kept glancing at his watch and looking at Maxwell expectantly. Maxwell gave him a strange look, but smiled at his boyfriend, unsure what had sparked this weird nervousness, but not on the whole opposed to it. It was nice seeing Bob a little out of his element. The comedy queen of season 8 was usually all confidence and wicked smirks. Seeing him nervously looking around and blushing every time their hands touched, was a welcome turn of events. 

As Max finally pushed his plate forward and leaned back, Bob grabbed his hand. Maxwell sat up suddenly at the intensity in Bob’s eyes; all the mirth had vanished. His hands were sweaty, and his heart was pounding out of his chest. 

Nevertheless, he started his speech. “Max, we’ve been together a while now. We both have big plans for our future, and I know that you’re gonna do amazing things in this world, and I want to be there to witness all those moments.” Bob started to kneel. “Maxwell will-“

A sudden shriek from the opposite end of the restaurant caused both Bob and Maxwell’s heads to turn. A man was on his knees with an outstretched box. A woman, who Bob assumed the annoying sound had come from was crying hysterically. “Yes. Yes, of course!” The patrons began to clap loudly, and Bob could only just pick up Max’s voice above the noise. 

“Wow, how tacky.”

_Fuck_ Bob thought. and he let out the breath he had been holding. There goes that.

As the applause died down, Maxwell turned his attention back to Bob. “What were you saying, babe?”

“Oh nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

…

They were visiting Bob’s family in Georgia. It had been a long time since he had been back. Everything looked the same, but it didn’t feel like home anymore. It was sad, but he was happy that he now had confirmation that his life in New York was the right one to be living. Bob’s family embraced him with open arms and scolded him for not calling enough. They told Max he was too skinny, and after feeding him an entire aluminum tray of macaroni, effectively putting him in a food coma, they turned their attention back to Bob.

The questions started immediately, and Bob couldn’t help the smile that enveloped his face as he gushed about all his proposal ideas. His family was ecstatic. They had always loved Max, and the year it took the two of them to get their heads out of their asses and start dating, was the longest of their lives.

For the rest of the week that Bob and Maxwell were visiting, they kept giving him sly smiles, and dropping hints about different proposal locations. Finally, Bob knew he just had to get away for the day, the incessant nagging, while out of love, was beginning to grate on his nerves. He offered up the county fair to Max, who eagerly accepted, happy to have some alone time together.

It was a small affair, but there were hot air balloons and a Ferris wheel, and Max was there, so it was a good time. They walked around to the few booths. Max was surprisingly good at skee ball. And Bob was surprisingly not. Max won a stupidly huge stuffed bear, and made Bob hold it while he ran around like a kid to all the other booths.

It was cheesy and silly, but Max’s smile still filled Bob’s chest with a warm fuzzy feeling. Even after all this time, Bob’s heart still beat just as hard as it had the first time.

Well maybe not the first first time, because they had simply been strangers at that point. When he thought about it, it still floored him that they could have ended up just being ships in the night, passing in and out of each other’s lives with hardly any notice. He is grateful to whatever deity that possessed him to run after Max all those years ago.

It had been awkward at first, Bob standing still and silent, unsure what to say to make Max stay. He finally told Max that he wanted to try. Wanted to give whatever they had, a try. Max took a moment. Bob could see the wheels in his head working so fast smoke was coming out his ears. But then they screeched to a halt suddenly, and Max nodded with a small smile, and the rest was history. Not an entirely peaceful or normal history, they were drag queens for fuck’ sake, but they had made that journey together. Bob hoped against hope that they could continue to do so.

And almost as if on cue, almost as a sign from the gods above, Bob spotted a hot air balloon. Not one to ignore signs, Bob grabbed Max’s hand and drug him over to the line. Max gave him a sweet smile and allowed himself to be led into the contraption, with Bob holding his hand, and an employee to drive them.

Bob tried to contain his excitement until they were floating some hundred feet above the ground. He held Max close to him, arm wrapped around his lover’s waist, and his own hand in his back pocket fiddling with the box. Max was looking out at the horizon, pointing out buildings and clouds and anything his eyes could touch. Bob hummed his affirmations, too scared to speak without giving away his intentions.

Just as the tension became too much, Bob made a grab for the box. Several things happened at once.

The balloon dipped suddenly and without warning, causing the box that contained the ring in Bob’s hand to fly out into the air.

Max shrieked and grabbed onto the basket tightly as the wind whipped all around them, sounding like a scream.

And the attendant that was supposed to be flying the damn thing was frantically running around the small space doing god knows what.  
Bob felt his stomach drop at the loss of the ring, but he couldn’t worry about that now with Max clutched against his chest, and the wind still beating on the sides of the basket, hundreds of miles above ground.

They stayed pressed together, breathing in each other’s air for what felt like years. The wind whipped and screeched, but Bob held fast to Max. The older man began to have trouble breathing. Bob grabbed Max’s face in between his hands and made a conscious effort to slow his own breathing. Max started at him helplessly, trying his best to calm down. Bob recognized Max having an anxiety attack. After so many years together, he knew the signs like the menu at their favorite restaurant.

Bob held Maxwell’s face steady and began whispering reassurances, “It’s ok. You are ok. Just breathe with me. Can you do that?”

Max nodded jerkily, and squeezed his eyes shut. Sometimes when he was having these attacks he hit, what he described as “sensory overload.” Sometimes sounds could be too much, sometimes touch could be too much, sometimes even looking at anything was too much. Bob had gotten pretty good at reading Max’s needs at these times, but he still got things wrong. So, he would always ask if what he was doing was ok.

“Is it ok that I’m holding you?” A nod. “Do you want me to stop talking?” A shake. “Ok.”

Bob continued breathing in and out slowly, occasionally whispering to Max that everything was ok and that it was going to be ok.

And before long, the wind died down, and the balloon touched none too gently on the ground. Max bolted out of the small space, and Bob followed close behind, sulking a bit when Max wasn’t looking.

Maxwell held his hand the entire drive back to Bob’s house, and only let him go when he had to undo his seat belt.

…

Bob read on three separate marriage blogs that skywriting your proposal was really “in” right now. Bob never considered himself super trendy, but he figured it was over dramatic and sweet, so Max would appreciate it. 

He had run into quite a few problems right from the start. They lived in New York City, which had some strange, but understandable laws about flying planes close to buildings. So, Bob had to schedule the proposal a few weeks out, and come up with some excuse to get Max and himself away from tall buildings, which sounded a lot easier said than done. Ultimately, Bob made the plans, and the payments, and went to bed feeling slightly better about his previous failed attempts.

Finally, the morning came, and Bob’s alarm blared into the previously silent bedroom. Max groaned loudly and attempted to silence the alarm by throwing a pillow at it. This only left the clock on the ground, and Maxwell without a pillow. Bob chuckled lightly at his boyfriend, who was now burrowing his head into Bob’s side and pouting. Bob started stroking Max’s hair lightly, and could have done so for hours, if only the high-pitched wailing of the clock weren’t so damn annoying.

Bob sighed and untangled himself from the human leech that was a sleepy Maxwell, to turn off the alarm. Max groaned again when Bob flung open the curtains, letting the early light dance along the walls of their shared room. 

“Five more minutes.” Max pleaded; head still buried in the sheets.

“No, c’mon we’re gonna miss it.” Bob pulled the blankets and sheet clear off the bed, leaving Max grumpily looking up at him between his fingers. Well, as grumpily as a grown man in boxer shorts with a pout can.

“Miss what?”

“Miss Vanjie”

Max laughed despite himself.

He got back at Bob by taking his sweet ass time getting ready. Bob eventually had to physically pull Max out of the apartment so they wouldn’t be late. 

They took a taxi and sat in relative silence with Max’s head resting on Bob’s shoulder, only occasionally sitting up to ask Bob where they were going. Bob refused to answer, but as they drove, and the signs for the pier became more frequent, Max started to get an idea. 

When they pulled up, Max jumped out of the taxi excitedly, leaving Bob to fork over the fare. Max practically ran over to the line for the ferry and looked back at Bob expectantly. 

Bob knew Max had always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty up close. Even though they both had been in New York long enough to call it Home, neither had been to see the iconic landmark yet. Bob had found it too touristy, and practically pointless, but Maxwell was a bit of a history nerd. 

Every time they would vacation, Max would ask to go to the local museum. And not the big nice ones, no. He wanted to go to the tiny ones in the middle of bumfuck nowhere towns that were run by some old man that the town had nicknamed something that started with a J. It was Bob’s personal opinion that all the old men they had met over the years were ghosts haunting them. Each time he told Max this, the older man would chuckle and press a kiss to his cheek, before turning back to inspect the artifacts. And while Bob didn’t understand it, who was he to get in the way of Max’s weird fascinations?

They piled on a too crowded boat, that felt like it could tip over at any moment, and Bob tried to not let his nerves show, but he couldn’t help his hands fidgeting. Max noticed, and placed his own hands in Bob’s larger ones, interlocking their fingers with a small smile. 

Bob looked up at the sky, trying to make out where the plane would come from, and where his message would end up. It took Bob until the ferry was almost across the river to realize something had gone wrong. And it took him an embarrassingly long time to figure out what exactly had gone wrong.

In the midst of all his planning and prepping, he had completely forgotten to check the weather. The overcast sky was filled with so many clouds, no wonder the white smoke message didn’t appear. 

Bob felt completely dejected but tried to put on a brave face for Max, who was eagerly running about, interrogating any tour guides in the immediate area. 

…

Bob had no idea how to cook. He had tried and failed many times before. For their anniversaries, Maxwell would always take the lead, restricting Bob to dish duty, and even then, Bob managed to fuck something up. This time was going to be different, at least, that’s what Bob was telling himself. Breakfast in bed, the most classic romantic gesture, with a bit of a twist.

He had been scrolling endlessly on Amazon when he found it. A simple teacup that when filled with liquid hid the “Will you marry me?” message. Bob immediately added it to his cart. He had pulled up some fancy recipe for Quiche and woke up at the ass crack of dawn to cook. 

It started off fine. 

Bob cut the onions, washed the spinach, and scrambled the eggs. Everything seemed fine, until he started rolling out the pie crust. It was way too flimsy and kept breaking apart in the pan. Bob ended up working some kind of patchwork magic, filling in the holes as best he could, before combining all the ingredients into the pan. He said a silent prayer to any god that would listen and placed the pan in the oven. He put the kettle on the stove and sat back on their tiny little couch. 

He felt himself comforted by the tattered blanket that was draped across his legs. Maxwell brought it from his old apartment. Bob smiles at the memory. Two apartments. It feels strange now to think that there was ever a time when he could breathe without Maxwell by his side. Or in his bed.

Moving in together was a normal step of most relationships that had lasted as long as his and Maxwell’s, but that step had been by far the hardest to work through. 

Max had always been hesitant in their relationship. He overthought everything, and whenever there was a time to make a big relationship step, Bob had to be the one to make it. After a while, Bob started to worry that he was pressuring Max, or that his feelings weren’t reciprocated in the way he thought they were. When he communicated this to Max, the older man insisted it wasn’t anything to do with Bob himself. 

“The reason I seem so hesitant is because I’ve been in relationships in the past where my affections, or at least, the degree at which I showed my affections, was not appreciated. I know you love me, and all the crazy that comes with that. But for me, sometimes I just feel like-like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for you to realize that I’m way too into you, or not worth any of this mess. I’m just so scared if you knew how much I love you, you would run.”

Bob held him a little closer that night, and wiped his tears, and assured him that he was loved and wanted and so incredibly special. They fell asleep on the tiny couch, with dried tears on both of their faces, but a new blanket and a little less space in the closet.

Only after thoroughly getting lost in his own memories did Bob realize he had completely forgotten to add cheese. He ran to the kitchen and threw open the oven. Eyeballing about half the package of cheese, he threw it haphazardly on the top of the pie. He noticed that the filling was quite close to the top of the pan, but Bob remembered reading that this was normal, so he didn’t worry much. 

Thirty minutes later, the smoke alarm sounded. 

“Fuck!” He heard from the bedroom.

“Max, wait hold on!”

Bob shot up from the couch and threw open the oven, which was releasing an alarming amount of smoke. Maxwell was hot on his heels, and immediately threw open a window fanning the smoke to the bustling New York City morning. Bob grabbed the still hot pan and threw it on the stove, but in the process, he knocked over the kettle and cup in one swipe. The cup and kettle fell to the ground in a deafening crack, and Bob felt a bit of his heart crack too.

Maxwell immediately ran over to help, most of the smoke clear now. He pulled Bob away from the broken cup, and grabbed his hands, red marks from the hot pan angrily looking back at him. Maxwell grabbed the first aid kit from their shared closet and sat Bob down on the couch as he washed the burns with the lightest touch. Cup forgotten, mess forgotten, it was just the two of them, and Bob’s burning skin. 

Max grabbed white vinegar from the still wreck of a kitchen and winced as Bob breathed in at the contact. All the while, Bob was focused on how his heart still swelled in his chest every time their hands touched. Maxwell finally sat back on the couch after pressing a light kiss to Bob’s hands. 

“What on earth were you doing? I thought I revoked your kitchen rights after that instance with the brownies.” Maxwell wasn’t angry, thank god. He was just concerned. He also had this sad look in his eye; the likes Bob wasn’t familiar with. Bob knew after his previous attempts at proposing, Max was getting suspicious, and with every failed attempt, Bob distanced himself further. He was trying not to, but it was hard. It just felt like the world was out to get him and Max’s relationship.

“Sorry, Max. Was just trying to surprise you with somethin nice. Won’t happen again.” Bob crossed his heart. “I swear it.”

Maxwell smiled lightly, trying to keep from asking all the questions he so desperately wanted to ask. He instead opted for draping himself on top of Bob. The position wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, for either of them, but they stayed there until the sun was high in the sky, and the spilled tea hung heavy in the air.

That smell never quite left either.

…

_I didn’t know it yet_  
That you would be the one  
The first place we met   
Our adventure had begun 

Max looked at the note quizzically, according to Dusty’s recollection. He asked if it was some kind of joke. Dusty did his best not to spill the beans right there, and just told Maxwell to trust him. And so, the adventure began.

Bob had been planning this for weeks. He was by no means a poet, or even good with words most of the time, but he had gotten all their friends involved, and even people who weren’t their friends. There were clues hidden in all their usual date spots, as well as a few private moments they had shared together. 

The first clue led to the side of a street in New York City. Monét was standing in the exact spot Bob remembered seeing Maxwell all those years ago. She handed Maxwell the second clue, who, by this point, was smiling goofily. Not quite sure what was going on, but by now, he was used to Bob’s antics.

_Libraries full_  
Got nothing on you  
The place I hate  
Where you almost flew 

The first time they fought. It wasn’t a happy memory, but a necessary one. It marked the time Max didn’t give in to his Inner Saboteur. 

They had yelled and screamed in the middle of a bookstore. Bob still can’t remember what it was about, neither of them could. But all he knows is that the door flung open. Maxwell stood in the doorway for too long. The tinny music was the only sound that filled the practically empty bookstore. The two of them were in limbo. The musty smell didn’t matter. The nosy shop owner didn’t matter. The overwhelming feeling of dread that Bob had didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that Max stayed. He breathed in and out. Once. Twice. Then turned around. 

He walked right up to Bob. He didn’t say anything, he just stood there. 

And that was it. 

They went about their night with biting quips here and there, tension still thick, but they were together.

Bob wanted to revisit all the places that meant anything to them. He wasn’t sure if Max would remember, but sure enough, he got that sad look on his face, at least according to Vanjie. She said, in between her gushing about her own wedding, that Max looked sad, but he knew exactly where to go to find the next clue. Bob had gotten Maxwell’s favorite book, a first edition copy for their three-year anniversary. 

_I’ve never been prouder_  
You light up my world  
Come to the place  
Where my heart first curled 

The place they said, “I love you.” Bob couldn’t forget it even if he tried, and he never did. They had been perched up on the High Line. Looking out over the city. The world felt so full and bright and busy. Bob knew that was where he belonged, and that brought him joy, and at the same time, he felt sadness, because he knew his time in this great city would come to an end. He was overwhelmed, and when Maxwell leaned his head on his shoulder, he couldn’t help it. It just slipped out. 

Maxwell had looked pensive as his face was caressed by the chilly New York City night air. But he said it back after a few seconds. And from that moment on, they couldn’t stop smiling at each other. Those sickly-sweet smiles that made others around them want to hurl, but secretly happy at the same time.

_To you I’ll be true_  
Forever and a day  
Don’t run too fast  
I’ll get in your way 

This is when it all went awry. 

Maxwell had no idea where to go. 

Looking back, Bob could have been clearer in his instructions. Maxwell wandered around the city practically all night; Bob was a helpless victim, watching as his soon-to-be fiancé went around to all the wrong places. Somehow, Maxwell missed the last three clues, but ended up in the right place anyway, back at their apartment. But rather than a romantic dinner and gushing about their wedding, the food was cold, and Bob was too tired and sad to answer any of Maxwell’s incessant questions. They ate in a stiff silence as Bob wondered if he even wanted to get married. 

…

Bob had given up. He had tried on five separate occasions to propose to Max, and each time he hadn’t been able to. Maybe it was the universe telling him something. Maybe he and Maxwell weren’t meant to be. 

That thought struck a chord in Bob, and he physically winced at it. Maxwell was everything to him. He was the only one that ever-made Bob feel right. He pushed the thought away and tried to focus on his lover’s words. “Are you even listening to me?”

Bob shook his head to clear it. “Yes, sorry.”

“You seem a bit…off lately.”

Bob sighed, “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just work ya know?”

“I do, but it seems like more than that.” Maxwell bit his lip, obviously refraining from saying something.

“What?” Bob’s words were harsh, and he regretted the tone immediately. 

“It’s just that you don’t act like yourself anymore. Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?” 

Bob was exasperated with himself at this point. Not only had he failed to propose to the man he loves, but he made the man he loves doubt their relationship. 

Bob couldn’t even begin to explain his feelings to Max, so he just settled for, “No. I’m fine, I told you, it’s just work.” 

Maxwell sat back. “Yeah sure.” Sarcasm was bitterly woven through the vowels. 

“What do you want me to say?” 

“I want you to tell me the truth!” Maxwell snapped, he looked regretful, but offered no apology. Bob just sat there, shocked at the tone, and frozen in place. He didn’t know what to say. 

Apparently, this was the wrong answer, because Maxwell got up and started walking away from him. As if to emphasize this fight, rain suddenly began to pour down on the two of them. Bob squinted as he looked up to the sky and screamed, “No. I don’t believe it. You’re wrong.”   
He probably looked insane, yelling up at the sky, but it made perfect sense to him. If the universe didn’t think that he and Maxwell should be together, then fuck the universe. 

Bob ran after his boyfriend, hardly noticing the state of his clothes. He grabbed Maxwell’s arm, who tried to wrench it away, but Bob held fast.

“Let me go, Chris.”

Bob took one look in his eyes as the rain came pouring down all around them, and he knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for. “Marry me.”

Maxwell stepped back. “What?”

Bob smiled widely and said it again. “Marry me.” A wary look from Maxwell made him realize how strange he must look, so he fumbled around in his pockets for a second before kneeling. “Marry me.”

Maxwell looked at him bewildered, and for a split-second Bob thought he must have gotten it wrong, but just as the silence began to get uncomfortable, a smile broke out on his face. He pulled Bob up by his soaked shirt into a kiss. Rain was falling all around them, and Bob knew he would never be able to wear these shoes again; his body was cold, and his hands were clammy, and it was nothing like he had planned it, but it was perfect. And the ring fit perfectly on Maxwell’s finger.

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to Saiph and Meggie for beta-ing this monstrosity! <3


End file.
